


Aint' Nothin' In The Universe Like Me

by mpkio2



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Comics), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Guardians of the Galaxy - Fandom
Genre: Cute, Fluffy, Gen, M/M, Peter & Rocket Friendship, Peter & Rocket Romance, Peter As A Cute Raccoon, Pocket, Potential SLASH - Freeform, Raccoon!Peter, Romance, Transformed Into Raccoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2363339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpkio2/pseuds/mpkio2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rocket Raccoon has always felt alone in this big, wide universe, being the only of his kind. But when The Infinity Stone changes Peter Quill’s molecules, Rocket finds a companion…a talking raccoon, just like him. RocketxPeter Raccoon!Peter Rated T</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're A Headache To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back with another Pocket (PeterxRocket) “Guardians Of The Galaxy” fanfic!
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the favs/follows/alerts and all of the wonderful reviews you guys left on my last GotG Pocket fanfic “Better Than Eleven Percent”. If you haven’t read it so yet, why don’t you go take a peek, eh?  
> Did not expect such a huge positive reaction from you guys, and though many want me to continue, right now I really don’t see how I can continue the story. Perhaps inspiration will hit me soon, who knows? For now, it’s a “One-Shot”, but it can change, so keep it on “follow” if you have done so already.
> 
> This idea has been in my head for a while now, and though I have seen the same premise in other fanfics in other fandoms, I still think it’s a good idea to use it here in a GotG fanfic, especially a Pocket one, friendship or romance.
> 
> Anyway, don’t know how long it will be, how many chapters it will end on, but let’s just see how far I can stretch out the Pocket awesomeness, eh? :)
> 
> Sorry for bad spelling and grammar.  
> Enjoy! :)

Ain’t Nothing In The Universe Like Me  
Written by mpkio2

Chapter 1  
You’re A Headache To Me

Peter was sure a presence was nearby, helping him, holding his hand tightly, supporting him, the stone too, it’s energy flowing into the one who stood by him. Was it his mom? Could it be her willing him on, helping him now? And as he thought this, thinking his mom was close by, the pain that was coursing through his body, he discovered, was lessening in intensity. But why could he hear others, but his own, screaming? 

Peter opened his eyes and looked around; there standing, holding each other’s hands in a link of true strength, was the guys; Garoma, Drax and Rocket. They were here with him and they were helping to balance out the power of the stone.

Peter unleashed the power of the stone unto Ronan, resulting in an almighty blast, the alien bent on destructing, ironically, meeting his doom. The energy dissaparated in an instant and the guardians found themselves in the wreckage of The Dark Aster.

“Another happy ending,” Peter declared, clearing his throat and rubbing the sweat on his brow, looking at the other guardians with a smug smile. “Thanks guys,”

“It’s Groot you should be thanking, you jackass,” Rocket muttered in a dark voice, the raccoon’s back to the others, his head down, a paw clutching a twig of his now deceased tree-friend, Groot. “If it wasn’t for him…we wouldn’t have stopped Ronan….”

A slight pause filled the air between the four companions, before Peter coughed and spoke…

“Err…yeah…Groot, he was-“

“You don’t even care!” Rocket snarled, spinning around, revealing his wet eyes, a glare blasting at Peter, hitting the terrain man in the chest. “None of you do!”  
“Rocket, dude…” Peter said in a soft, apologetic voice, because he was sorry; sorry that Groot had to sacrifice his own life in order to save Rocket’s and the others. Peter was sincerely sorry, because, although untrue what his companion had declared, the implication that Rocket cared more for Groot than the rest of them, was a fact that could not be denied by any. And most of all, Peter found himself sympathetic for the raccoon who had lost, he assumed, his first real friend.

Seeing the raccoon looking down at the ground, peter stretched out a hand and touched but the ear tip of mammal, which flicked upon recognition of contact. Rocket looked up and swiped at Peter, claws retracted, scratching the man on his right hand.

“Ow! The hell, Rocket?!” The human exclaimed in both pain and shock, withdrawing his hand and away from the fierce raccoon. 

“Don’t ya eva touch me again!” Rocket screeched out in anger, pain and….sorrow? “Just…all of ya leave me a-alone…” The scientific engineered-raccoon’s voice broke at the end, resulting in all guardians to look at him in a mixture of shock and worry. He ran on all fours, away from the group, sitting but a few feet away on the ground by the wreckage, the twig still firmly in his paws.

“I’ll go and attend to out furry friend,” Drax announced, his eyes firmly on Rocket’s back. “Our companion is in grief and needs comforting,” Without hearing a response from either Peter or Garoma, Drax moved slowly and walked towards Rocket.

“It’s understandable the way he reacted,” Garoma muttered, looking down at her unsheathed sword. “I still have my sister, a person I hold great affection for…”  
Peter sighed, slowly looking down at the scratches Rocket left on his hand. Although Gamora was right in what she said, Peter couldn’t knock the pain that spread around his hand. The scratch hurt like a bitch, more than what it should have. He rubbed it, thinking to sooth the pain, but this only resulted in irritation.

And then Peter felt it; a shock that coursed through his body, shaking everything on his being. His heart-race increased as the shock disappeared, and though the pain had left, the growing ear and confusion remained. 

What the hell-?!

“Are you OK, Quill?” Peter heard Gamora’s voice beside him. “You look a little…unsettled…”

“I-I’m fine,” Peter couldn’t stop the words escaping through his mouth; once it was out, there was nothing he could do to take it back. He wanted to confide in Gamora, to tell her that his body did something…unexpected, that he was having a mild panic attack. But another part took over, and it told him to keep it quiet. “You know me, I’m always a-awesome,”

Gamora gave him one last searching expression, an unconvinced conviction in her eyes, snorted in response and nodded to her right. Peter looked over and saw Yandu and the other Ravagers heading his way, all with intention with collecting the Infinity stone.

Peter sighed, a plan already formed in head, ready to fool his adopted father and the rest of the Ravagers…

\--

The last two weeks progressed in a blur. The Guardians were first, and foremost, thanked by the Nova Corps on their valiant effort in stopping Ronan from destroying Xander and his conquest in destroying the galaxy, each receiving a medal. The Infinity Stone was returned to the Nova Corps, The Guardians re-ensured that it would be under the most secure and upmost protection.

It was in this event that Quill ponded on what he would do, where he would go, and ultimately decided that staying with his new found friends, staying with his new family, keeping an eye on them and acting as their leader, their captain, was an appropriate thing to do, a thing he knew to be right.

Rocket, for the most part, kept his distance with the other Guardians, opting, instead of spending time in their company, stayed in his new room on the newly constructed Milano, his new quarters, which Peter said he and Groot could share. The others, Peter included, felt the worry grow in their stomachs, not knowing what to do, how they could possibly help comfort the heart-broken raccoon out of his grieve for his ‘dead’ friend. 

And though Groot was growing, though he was now but a sapling, talking in a high pitched voice and smiling and cute, a sapling to which Rocket still looked after and spent much time with, the raccoon still looked as though something was wrong, as though he thought the growing tree sentient in front of him, the one who laughed and spoke to him, was not his friend at all. Rocket spent as much time with the growing sapling as he could, but Peter was sure he caught the odd worried expression, the glint of sadness in his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped now and then.

The scratch in which Rocket had left on Peter’s right hand, still hadn’t healed, which was strange, seeing how, usually, any scratch which Rocket had gifted the onto Peter, healed within a few days. But a fortnight? No, something was wrong, something Peter had an inkling of back when The Dark Aster crashed. He received the odd electric shock now and then, rising in intensity and pain, getting stronger and longer in duration, usually in inconvenient times; when driving the Milano, having a shower, in the middle of the night, in the company of his teammates. At times, they would ask if he was OK, to which he replied the same thing over and over “I’m awesome. Really…and don’t you forget it,”. He was sure he sounded unconvincing at times, for the look that Gamora and Drax gave him said so.

Peter had tried everything; every ointment, every antibiotic, every remedy he found on the ultraweb, but nothing seemed to do the trick. He was now running out of ideas, running desperate, his only alternative coming clean to his friends, asking if there was anything that could help.

“Yo, Quill!” A frustrated and angry voice yelled out, pulling Peter out of his thoughts and back to sitting in the driver’s seat of the Guardians new home and ship, the Milano. “Stop ya day dreamin’, ya stupid humie! If ya driving kills us, I’ll scratch ya eyes out!”

Peter blinked upon hearing the voice, shocked to see Rocket sitting in the seat beside him, looking up at him with a displeased and pissed off expression, an expression in which Peter hadn’t seen in some time. Upon seeing it, Peter discovered that he felt, surprisingly, happy to see it, opting to see the common expression Rocket wore, than the sad and heart-broken one. He smiled on the inside but frowned on the outside…

“I ain’t day dreamin’!” Quill responded, in the customary way he and the talking-raccoon conversed in. “And your threat makes no sense!”

“It makes perfect sense!” Rocket replied in a defensive tone, a paw working on a mechanical-gizmo that sat on the mammal’s lap, Peter not knowing what the hell it was (As long as if its not another bomb, he thought distractedly,). “Ya just too stupid to understand it, init?!”

“OK, genius,” Peter responded, looking down to his right at the raccoon beside him. “How will you scaratch out my eyes if I’m dead? No, scratch that; how will you scratch my eyes out if your dead?”

“The afterlife, dumbass!” Rocket growled, his voice sounding just as pissed off as the expression he wore. “And if you believe in all that stuff those religious crackpots believe, then I can, and will, easily scratch out ya eyes!”

Peter scoughed. “I’d like to see you try,” And stuck his tongue out to his teammate. 

“Ya won’t be able ta, not when ya have no eyes to see with!” And Rocket, in turn, showed Peter his own.

A momentary silence settled between the pair, the sound of the Milano ship humming, sounds on the intercom and the voices of Drax and Gamora down in the conference room, the ponly sounds that could be heard.

Peter, for some reason unbeknownst to himself, felt nervous in asking Rocket a question. He gulped, and with eyes focusing in front of him, he spoke:  
“Wh…what made you come up and sit with me, anyway?”

At first, Peter received nothing as an answer, and thought he had angered the genetically-altered raccoon, upset him to a point where he didn’t want to speak to Peter at all. But then, out of the blue, he heard the reply:

“Got nuthin’ betta to do,” Peter heard the mammal rummaging, working on the mechanical-creation in his paws. “Groot’s sleepin’, the maniac is in his room, and Gamora is working on her swordsman-ship stuff. It was either talk to you or stare at a wall…”

“But…you didn’t have to…” Peter pointed out.

“Oi!” Rocket exclaimed, Peter practically hearing the fur on the mammal’s body spike up in defence. “It’s not like I wanna hang with ya or anything! It’s dis or boredom, so shut up what eva ya dumb humie brain is thinking. Ya nuthin’ special, Star-Dork,”

“Still,” Peter replied in a clam voice, unaffected by Rocket’s insults and anger. “You got outta of your room. Thought you were hibernating in there, y’know?” Peter smirked.

“I ain’t no animal!” Rocket yelled in response. “And if I wanna lock myself away from all of you a-holes, well…I can do that if I wanna, so screw ya!”

“Oh I’m just messing with ya, furball,” Peter said, pushing Rocket on the side of his arm in a playful way. “You don’t need to take things so-“

And thats when it stuck; the most intense and powerful headache he had experienced in the past two weeks. It coursed around his brain, his sculp, making it hard to think, just barely enough for him to stay awake. He fought back, a war raging on in his head, trying to keep the pain away, wishing it, forcing it to be gone. But he was losing, miserably, and when he realized this, an emotion took over…

Fear.

Peter felts his heart beating rapidly against his rib-cage, felt sweat draping his brow, all over his skin. He had to get out, had to get out of this compressed and confined space! He needed to breathe, to feel the air in his lungs once more! He wanted to scream out his pain, not caring if he disturbed his other crewmates in the process – he just had to release this pain as quickly as possible.

“Ro-Rocket,” He addressed his furry companion beside him, not sure if the talking mamal was aware of the panick and distress Peter was currently in. “T-take over,” He said, clicking a the over-ride driving toggle on the console in front of him, resulting in a small steering wheel popping out in front of Rocket, who took it firmly in his paws, surprised, the little gadget it had currently be working on rattled to the floor. 

“What the-?” The cybernetic-engineered mammal cried out, looking up at Peter with an expectant expression, as if waiting for an answer as to why he was now in control of the Milano instead of Peter, someone who would opt, in almost any case, unless very nessacary, would allow Rocket to drive his “Pride and joy”. “Quill, what-?”

But Peter wasn’t listening – Rocket was nothing but white noise in the background – his mindto focussed on “breathing” and “Stay calm” and “You can get through this” and “You should have gone to a doctor sooner” and “It hurts! Shit! And “Make it stop!”. A never ending stream of thoughts, of regret and pain.  
Peter snapped off the in-ear-talkie device that had sat firmly around his head, unsteadily got to his feet, turned and walked, as best as he could without falling over from the spinning and dizziness, out of the cockpit, destination being his own sleeping quarters. 

“Quill, where are you-?”

“I-I’m f-fine,” Peter stuttered out through clenched teeth. “I-I’m just a little t-tired,”

“But where are you-!?”

“My room!” Peter shouted in reply, because it was so painful and it was all he could to reliefe some of the pain and Rocket was getting on his nerves and he can deal this without- “Just leave- AGGG!!”

Without warning, before he could stop himself, Peter fell to his knees with an almighty “THUD”, hands clutching his head, his head pounding and pounding and pounding and it was all he could do to make it stop….

Peter thought he could hear Rocket shouting his name, but wasn’t really too sure, because now he was far too gone to even comprehend the waking world around him. Because something was definitely not right….everything was wrong. 

The pain grew and grew and just when Peter thought it was burst his brain, it ended all soon, without trace, stopped right in its tracks.  
“Q-Quill?” Peter’s eyes snapped open upon hearing Rocket’s voice….because he was sure he detected….no…worry…was that worry in the usually tough-insult spewing-dirty-mouthed and overall asshole raccoon? Now Peter was one-hundred percent sure that something must be wrong.

Peter slowly turned, surprised to find the talking-raccoon but a stretch away from him, Peter assuming Rocket had turned on the auto-pilot feature on (Why hadn’t he thought of that?). He faced Rocket, hopping his face wouldn’t portray his own worry he felt, and opted to cover it with one of his “Bright and awesome” smiles that usually convinced everyone around him that he was totally fine and not at all in any mortal danger. But Peter was welcomed with the opposite of what he hopped to see; for there on the raccoon’s face was shock, his mouth agap, staring at Peter as if he had two heads.

“W-what?” The terran man choked out. “I told you I’m fine. I just…headache and tired,” Peter tried his trademark smile again, but resulted in changing nothing of Rocket’s plastered expression. “Stop staring at me like that! Rock, what’s wrong?!”

Rocket finally seemed to snap out of it, his mouth shutting as he shook his head. He looked back at Peter, shocked expression still covering his facial features, his eyes sparkling almost as he turned, jumped back up onto the co-pilot’s seat, rummaged around a bit, jumped back down and slowly approached Peter with a small mirror held firmly in his paws. He held it out stretched, indicating for Peter to take hold of. With an eyebrow raised, Peter took hold of the mirror; if this was some sort of a joke…!

Peter stared into the mirror and at once comprehended Rocket’s behaviour, why the talking mammal looked at him in shock, why his mouth was agape, why his eyes sparkled. Because, instead of Peter’s reflection, he was presented with a raccoon who stared at him with brown beady eyes, cream coloured fur, white fur covering its muzzle and the area around its eyes.

The raccoon looked at him with shock, surprise and wonder.

And that was when Peter finally cried out:

“WHAT THE HELL!? I’M A RACCOON!”

\- TO BE CONTINUED –


	2. I Think Differently Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has been transformed into a raccoon, one like Rocket, but how will the genitically-altered raccoon and the other Guardians react to Peter's new appearance? Read and Review! Thank You! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Thank you so much to all those who have alerted/faved/reviewed this fanfic story so far. It means the world to me that you guys are supporting this story. 
> 
> Got a great reaction from the first chapter and most seem to think this story has an interesting premise.   
> Nothing more to say….hmm?
> 
> Raccoon!Peter is on the way! :D
> 
> Sorry for bad spelling and grammar.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Ain’t Nothing In The Universe Like Me  
Written by mpkio2

Chapter 2  
I Think Differently Of You

The scream echoed around the entire Milano, alerting both Gamora and Drax away from their separate sleeping quarters, both alert and ready to face any danger that may come their way, weapons ready, Gamora’s sword unsheathed, Drax’s fists clenched. But upon entering the driving quarters of the ship (The source of where the scream had come from,), they were both stunned and puzzled to find an almost statue like Rocket standing and staring, startled, at a form which looked exactly like Rocket himself, the creature whirling on the floor, its hands on its furry head, shouting hysterically: “WHY?! HOW?! I NEED ANSWERS!”  
With questioning, asking for any explanation, Gamora clutched the furry creature in her hand and slammed him against the wall, sword against its throat, glaring strongly into its beady black…familiar eyes.

“Who are you and what are you doing on this ship?” The green-warrior demanded. 

“I-It’s me!” The creature squeaked out, trying to break free of Gamora’s tightly firm grip on it, withering under her strength. “Peter Q-Quill!”

“What?!” Gamora almost choked out, her eyes widening, before shrinking back to slits of doubt and distrust. “Don’t speak utter rubbish to me, stranger!”

“The Peter Quill I know is not one so furry like our friend Rocket here,” Drax said in a firm voice, though his body language was no where near as calm. “Friend Rocket?” It was at this point that Drax finally realized how startled and shocked the raccoon was. The heavy built man approached the raccoon and placed a ahnd on his furry little head. At once, Rocket stiffened at the instant contact (A habit in which he could not conceal,) and looked up at the man with wide eyes.

“Friend Rocket, who is this creature?”

Rocket looked back at Peter without a verbal answer. He just looked at me. Just stared.

“Come on, Rock!” Peter screamed, desperate for Rocket to rescue him from Gamora’s fury. “ Just tell them I’m Peter Quill and we can be done with this whole thing! I would like to stay alive here!”

“Friend Rocket?” Drax prompted in a calm soothing voice, but this resulted in the same answer; silence.

Gamora glared back at Peter, to which the newly transformed-raccoon recoiled and gulped at seeing, and placed her sword dangerously close to his throat. “I’m gonna give you to the count of five, and if you don’t give me a good reason not to kill you, my sword will meet your throat,”

The air grew dangerously tense, warm and stuffy, the only noise that being of the engine to the vehicle and the low buzzing from the driver console. Peter’s eyes darted over to the form of Rocket, almost pleading with him to say anything to stop Gamora. But just at looking in his eyes, Peter could tell that Rocket was still in shock.

Me too! Peter thought angrily. I’m the one who was transformed!

Knowing that Rocket was currently out of service, Peter had no other choice but to save himself.

“Here’s one reason not to kill me, Gamora,” Peter muttered, cutting off Gamora who had been on the verge of announcing the next number in her sequence. And to answer Gamora’s question, Peter looked at her in the eyes and gave one of his “Awesome” smiles.

Gamora’s eyes lit up with recognition, the sword in her hand dropping a fraction, her grip on Peter loosening. “I-it’s can’t be,” She uttered in awe.

“It is,” And this voice startled everyone, excluding the speaker himself, for the one who had chosen to speak now was…

“Rock!”

“Shut up, Star-Dork,” And this scared Peter, for the second time on the day, for Rocket didn’t yell at him, didn’t screech, didn’t look as though he was about to scratch his eyes out with his sharp little claws. “No-one wants to hear you speak; its creepy,”

“You’re one to talk!” And though part of Peter believe that statement, another regretted spilling those words out. “Why didn’t you do anything to save me, dude?! Gamora was about to slice my-“

“I don’t need to hear this,” Rocket said, his voice a little louder than before, starting to walk in the direction of the open door. “In fact, don’t speak to me at all,” And before anyone could stop him, Rocket left the driving hanger, leaving Gamora, Drax and rather irritated Peter behind.

Peter’s backside hit the floor without warning, the pain spreading up his brand new tail. He stood on his now transformed hind paws and stared up at Gamora. “You could have at least warned me! That hurt!”

“Too bad,” Gamora answered, sheathing her sword. “Explain, now,”

Peter sighed staring down at his paws. 

To be honest, he didn’t know where to begin…

\-- 

“You idiot, Peter Quill!” Gamora yelled, her fist smashing onto the common room table. “Why didn’t you tell any of us?!”

“It would have been wise to inform us of any irregular bodily functions, Captain Quill,” Drax said with a nod, cleaning his favourite knife with a cloth. “Or at least see a medical specialist,”

“You know I hate seeing the doctor,” Peter retorted back. “And they charge way too much for their services, anyway! I just thought I could…you know….way it through…”

“And look how great that little plan of yours turned out!” Gamora countered, gesturing to Peter’s new form. “Was turning into a-a…?”

“Raccoon?” Peter offered with a slight smirk on the corners of his muzzle, shinning it at Gamora all the while, feeling his whiskers twitch, his tail swishing lightly. It was just too easy!

“Don’t charm your way outta this one, Quill!” Gamora shot back, hand ready on the hilt of her sword. “You got yourself into this mess and now you’re a…a…a Rocket!”

“I do believe the enraged-woman has a valid argument, Captain Quill,” Drax said, finishing off cleaning his weapon and now solely focusing on Peter, his eyes filled with concern. “This could have all been avoided if you had confided in us,”

“And now you’re stuck as a…whatever!”

“Raccoon,” Peter repeated, despite the potential out-burst attack from the green-assassin; he concluded it was totally worth the risk. “And actually, I’m not stuck,”  
“It’s gonna fail,” Gamora said her eyes lidded with anger. “They all fail in the end,”

“Hey Ms. Pessimistic! Not all of my plans fail,” Peter replied, folding his arms over his chest. “There was that one…no, no we almost all died….or that other time…wait, no we lost the map….Ahh!” Peter held a single claw up in victory. “The time I saved the galaxy!”

“You saved the galaxy?!”

“Sorry, the time we saved the entire galaxy from the destructive hands of Ronan…but it was mostly down to my awesome dance moves,”

“That plan failed too!”

“But we won in the end! And this plan is bound not to fail…by at least twelve percent,”

“That doesn’t give me much confidence,” 

“Have faith, my Gamora!” And Peter jumped on to the table, the white glow from the light above, making his cream-coloured fur shine, his tail moving slowly from side-to-side, his brown eyes glowing with amusement. “I’ll be back in my handsome, gorgeous, irresistible human form in no time,”

“I actually prefer if you remain like this,” Gamora replied in a low voice. “At least then your jibing pelvic sorcery will no longer invade my personal space,”

“Why can’t I do that now in this form?” As if thinking she had heard wrong, Gamora threw the newly transformed-raccoon a dirty and disgusting scowl.   
“You little pervert, Peter Quill!”

\--

“Rock, come on,” That was Quill’s voice muffled due to the firmly locked door between he and cyber genetic-enhanced raccoon, the only of his kind, he and only he…

But maybe, not any more…?

“What gives man?” Quill. Will he ever give up? What part of “don’t speak to me at all” did he not understand? I mean, he’s an idiot and all, but still… “You got a stop with all this “locking myself in my room” thing; it’s annoying as hell,”

But Rocket knew what Quill was trying to do; he was winding him up, making him angry and irritated so that he would force Rocket to retort back, even open the door and slash him. Rocket wasn’t going to fall for that though; he knew better, knew all of Quill’s little tricks and techniques in successfully getting under his fur. No, Rocket was firm in his choice, firm in what he was doing, adamant in not replying.

“I have plan,” Quill announced suddenly, his voice a little louder. “Plan in which I can transform back into my old self,” Rocket felts his ears twitch with interest. With his back facing the door, he slowly turned to look at it, curious as to what Quill had in mind. “But….”

Quill grew quiet and Rocket could hear the slow rumble of the Milano fill the silence.

“It won’t work without you, buddy,” Rocket just about hear Quill’s mumbled voice through the door and his eyes slightly widened in response. “Just come outta there, yeah? So we can talk about this…”

Rocket felt his head drop, his eyes looking squarely at the floor below him, felt his claws clench into two small fists, growl rumbled in his throat and escaped through his muzzle. 

“I don’t know how this happened to me,” Quill said, his voice remained in a low tone of voice. “Heh, it’s like something out a fantasy movie, huh?” Quill’s attempt to lighting the mood landed on deaf ears and Rocket only growled further. “Maybe this is just some prank someone’s pulling on me, maybe I’ve been cursed, or maybe I’m just screwed up,”

Great, Rocket thought, feeling his fur fluff up. He’s rambling on to himself…no, to me, and it’s just as annoying as me keeping myself copped up in this room! The idiot, he’s so lost…

A bit like me….

“I guess, I just figured…well you know, seeing how you’re a….and now I’m a…I thought you would…”

Another few seconds of silence and Rocket was sure he heard a slight sigh on the other side of the door. But as quickly as he hears it, it disappears and is replaced by soft chuckles; Rocket’s head snaps around, knowing he would only be greeted by the door that separated the two from each other.

“Haha, ignore me,” Quill chuckles, and sounds rather odd coming from his, somewhat altered voice, for though it was still Quill’s voice, Rocket, with his enhanced hearing capabilities, could detect the slight difference in vocal patterns. “This is a joke, dude! A total joke!”

But this wasn’t funny; not for either of them…

“We’ll be landing on Xander soon,” Quill announces, his voice a lot brighter and louder than it needed to be. “If you wanna help…you know, come out of that room and join us. If you don’t want to….it’s up to you…not gonna force you into doing something you wanna do…no pressure, K?”

Rocket replied with a knock on the door.

“Ahh, awesome!” Quill exclaimed, Rocket hearing a sigh escape his muzzle. “You were listening to me; thought you mighta been asleep or something,”

Thought Rocket didn’t “speak” to Quill with words, he had certainly spoken with actions, and that infuriated the genetically altered raccoon more than anything,   
berating himself in his head. For he had just given in, had just “spoken” to Quill, something he said he wouldn’t give into. Flark it!

“Don’t hibernate in there for too long, yeah?” Quill said, his voice still light and chirpy. “I’m gonna forget what you look like and that would be totally suck, especially if I…well, it’ll work out somehow, won’t it? Cause I won’t be like this for much longer anyway, yeah…yeah. You do what you want…Rock. Talk to you later, dude,”

Rocket walked to the door and pressed an ear to the surface, hearing the slight pitter-patter of claws walking on metal, a sound Rocket constantly heard himself, confirming that Quill was walking down the hallway, away from his and Groot’s room.

“I am Groot,” Rocket’s still growing sapling-friend’s voice spoke from behind where he sat perched in his little pot by Rocket’s nightstand, a small lamp shining light onto him, keeping Groot cosy and warm. “I am…Groot?”

“It’s Quill. He’s transformed into…”

“I am Groot?”

Rocket, for answer to Groot’s question, mearly gestured at himself.

“I am Groot!?”

“Yeah, seriously,”

“I am…Groot?” The sapling titlted its little head to the side and looked at Rocket with eyes feel with sympathy.

“I don’t know,” Rocket replied, because he didn’t, did he?; didn’t know what he was gonna do now. “Gah, I don’t even care!”

“I am Groot!”

“I don’t! He should see what it’s like. You heard him; sounding all pathetic and lost!”

“I am…Groot!”

“You might only last a little while! What’s wrong with that? So what if he has to stay like the way he is for a few days or a few weeks?! It won’t kill him!”

“I am Groot!”

“No, he’s gonna see what’s it’s like when everyone treats him different; everyone will; Gamora, Drax, the senates on Xander-!”

“I am…Groot?”

Rocket froze looking at his friend, his eyes widening slightly, faulting and then darting to the floor. “Yeah,” he replied in a quiet voice. “Even me,”

\- TO BE CONTINUED –

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> And another chapter is done. :)
> 
> I wanted to mainly focus on Gamora and Drax’s reaction to Peter’s transformation, but also how Rocket is dealing with the whole situation as well. I hinted at how he is taking it all, and though in the third part of the chapter, I decided to switch to his perspective, I still withheld quite a bit of information from you guys (The Readers,) for I believe it’s too early on in the story to explain everything all at once.
> 
> Slowly moving forward and gradually will be how I will disclose any information. If you look at the subtext to the whole chapter, you’ll be able to see how Rocket’s feeling. ;)
> 
> I also wanted to include some humour and so wrote the second part of the chapter where Gamora and Drax berate Peter on not telling them what was going on with him. 
> 
> Next chapter, the gang lands on Xander and much more Peter/Rocket drama is to be expected :)
> 
> Please leave a review telling me what you think of the story so far; it will keep greatly motivated to write more. Much appreciation and love.
> 
> See ya next update! :)
> 
> ~mpkio2~


	3. You're Not Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for all of the favs/alerts/reviews you guys have been giving this fanfic! It means so much to me. Much appreciated!
> 
> I apologize for the long wait between updating this story; I’ve been busy with life in general with work and just been tired, overall. As you can imagine and appreciate, it hasn’t been easy for me to find time to write. However, I’ve found some spare time and can, once again, commence writing all that “Pocket” goodness! :) :) :)
> 
> Not much else to say really…
> 
> Read and enjoy! :)
> 
> Sorry or bad grammar and spelling!

Ain’t Nothing In The Universe Like Me  
Written by mpkio2

Chapter 3  
You’re Not Me

In the time it took the Milano to reach the outer reaches of Xander, Peter, curious and mischievous in his new, and what he labelled “temporary” body, had already caused much havoc and aggravation for Drax and Gamora. 

While experimenting with his new body, Peter discovered the new sensation of swishing his new bushy tail back and forth in a gentle, rhythmic sway. But unbeknownst to the newly transformed human-raccoon, who was transfixed in his current tail-swishing, was unaware of the green, ex-murderous maniac, Drax, who had sat himself in the conference room, sharpening his knifes at the table, he too, like Peter, transfixed of his current task. When Drax felt fur against his arm, he jolted upright at the sudden sensation, his knifes falling to the floor as he did so. Dismayed that all his hard work had gone to waste, Drax calmly suggested that Peter should “Find someone else to keep company with,”.

Peter, who had quickly apologized before scampering away, agreed to Drax’s suggestion and made his way through the Milano hallways, leading him to the kitchen area where Gamora was fetching herself a drink of water. Seeing how the room occupied a long counter-top surface which resigned around the walls, Peter decided now was better than ever to test out how well he could climb with his newly equipped retractable claws. At first, he found it rather tricky, and wondered how Rocket made it look so easy, but after a while of the weird sensation of claws retracting (It felt weird!) and finding the right gripping, he found it second nature and actually rather enjoyable, laughing as he clambered up the kitchen walls “Look, Gamora! I’m Spider-Man!”.

But while Peter was having so much fun, he lost concentration, still not used to his new body, lost gripping to the wall and fell right on top of Gamora, who had been looking up at Peter with an unamused and disdainful glare. Gamora, in swift motion, grabbed Peter by the tuft of fur on his back, unsheathed her weapon and pinned him against the wall, glaring into his eyes with ,murderous intent, threatening to skin him alive if he didn’t cease acting so much like a child. Peter responded with a flirtatious remark, resulting in Gamora releasing him and giving him a distrustful expression.

Meanwhile, Rocket, who had opted in completely shutting himself and Groot in their shared bed chamber, barely left it, only leaving for food and the restroom when need be. At every opportunity he had, Peter attempted in striving up a conversation with the very anti-social and distant talking-raccoon. But all Peter received in all instances was a dirty look, a grunt or nothing at all. If anything, it was like Rocket was back at square one, when only but a few days ago, he had locked himself in his room for a fortnight, while still mourning the “death” of Groot. And now he was back in there, again, but on this occasion, for an entirely different reason.

But for what reason?, Peter had asked himself. He tried as much as could, but ended up with no answer as to why Rocket would keep himself locked away, distancing himself from the rest of the Guardians. Why? Was he back to mourning Groot again? Or…what?! He just couldn’t work that gun-shooting raccoon out and how his little brain worked! Screw it!

\--

The Milano was now entering Xander’s atmosphere and was slowly making its decent. It was a bumpy landing to say the least, what with Peter’s unaccustomed new body, discovered that it was a little be more difficult when your body parts had shrunk somewhat, where he found it almost natural, was now uncomfortable and rather unsettling, hoping that his skills would improve as he grew familiar with his new body.

But this is only temporary!, he berated himself. You’re gonna get your body back today, dude!

“And what kind of a landing do you call that, Quill?!” Gamora asked in a bitter voice, standing up from her seat behind the driver’s seat in the cockpit, brushing herself off as she did so. “I almost gained a concussion because of your unskilful driving!”

“I most concur with the wench,” Drax said, sitting almost lopsided next the Peter in the front passenger’s seat. “Your new body is not well equipped for driving this space vehicle,”

“Hey!” Peter replied in a defensive voice. “If you guys didn’t fail to notice, Rocket flies any “space vehicle” just fine. Why should my skills be any different?”

“That furball is used to his body. You however, are not!” Gamora answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “And because you’re Peter Quill!”

“Give me some slack - I’m doing the best I can!” Peter retorted, folding his new short arms in front of him, grunting slightly. “It’s not easy being this small, you know?”

“Sorry, but no,” Drax answered the rhetorical question, a question in which Peter didn’t want answered to. “I have no comprehension to my height of being any smaller, nor shorter, of what it already is,”

Peter smacked a paw to his forehead and sighed deeply, forgetting how “literally” Drax received almost every rhetorical and figure of speech he or the other Guardians used.

“Speaking of short mammals, does anyone know where Rocket is?” Gamora asked, looking to the seat next to her, expression confused as if she only noticed the talking-raccoon’s absence. “Is he not accompanying us on this little hair-brained plan of yours?”

A slight pause settled within the cockpit, the sound of the Milano’s engine slowing down and exhaustion being released in the form of smoke through the external exhaust pipe, filled the otherwise, almost, uncomfortable silence.

“I thought he was…” Peter confessed, breaking the silence between he, Gamora and Drax. Peter finally stood on his back haunches, grabbing his Star-Lord facemask which, surprisingly, still fit Peter, despite being in his new form. “This made be hard to believe, but I’ve been proven wrong in the past…”

Gamora snorted. “What’s so hard to believe about that? Sounds like you all over.”

“It does indeed,” Drax replied with a nodding head. “But seeing how are furry little friend won’t be accompanying us, shall we abort the mission? Will you be aa furry creature for the rest of your life Captain Quill? Will you have to make a formal enouncement now, making it official? It would be wise I believe if-“

“Drax, dude!” Peter snapped, his head turning to face the green man with a snarl and a not to friendly face. “Just shut it for a second, will ya? I’m trying to think here…”

And then something unexpected occurred, something that neither warranted nor negated what happened, something that was rare and hardly ever happened…

Gamora was laughing. Real full hearted , belly-clutching, laughter escaped her lips, and for the other two remaining Guardian’s, it was a rather frightening sight to say the least.

“Er-Gamora?” Peter started in a tentative voice, knowing that while Gamora was ever in an unstable state of emotion, it was always best to keep distance, safe from any unprecedented outburst of physical strength. “You OK?”

“I fear for our safety, Captain Quill,” Drax replied in a solemn tone, brandishing his knives from his side pockets. “I am ready to protect. The green wench is unstable and, therefore, dangerous,”

“I-I’m fine, y-you big oaf!” Gamora exclaimed though the dying of her laughter. “It’s just I…sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” And as if nothing ever happened, as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever occurred, Gamora turned her back to the two and unsheathed her sword.

“So…are ya gonna tell us what the hell that was all about?” Peter asked, still weirded out by the whole ordeal, though a little more confident and reassured in Gamora’s state of mind; she didn’t sound crazy, well…as far as Peter could tell. “You just laughed…out of nowhere!”

“I did no such thing,” Gamora replied, walking towards the cockpit’s door terminal, entering a few buttons, which concluded in the door opening, parting in two and creating an exit. “Now, shall we commence with this plan of yours?” And with that, she left, walking down the hallways of the Milano until both Peter and Drax could no longer see her in the distance.

“I believe it is time we send our dear assassin friend to a mental institution,” Drax declared after a moment’s pause, his eyes still staring down the hallway in which Gamora only walked down. “It is obvious that she exhibits symptoms of an unstable psychological way of thinking…”

“Even if she is crazy, I don’t think she’ll ever allow us to permit her,” Peter sighed, he too staring down the hallway. “Hell, she’ll kill us even if we suggest such a thing,”

“We can still try-“

“No, Drax,” Peter said as finally turned away from the hallway and stared up at the man beside him. “Leave her be. She’s fine,”

But even as Peter said these words, he doubt them all too quickly. Something wasn’t right, something was off, and Peter suspected that even Gamora knew that, knew that she was hiding something; but what and for why, Peter yet had to discover.

And something told him, it had something to do with him…

\--

“You’re still in there, huh?” 

Right on schedule; there he is - Star-Dork, yet again on the other side of the door, deflated and desperate. Well, he can forget it! I’m not helping.

A small chuckle is heard and Rocket’s head turns to face the door. “Why did I expect you would help me? Hopeful thinking, I guess…”

Your damn right! If you think I’m gonna help ya now that you’re a…and because you want to…forget it! Just forget it!

“I am Groot!” The small tree sapling’s voice could just be heard through the metallic door that was between he and his talking-raccoon friend. “I am Groot!”

“I don’t care if he looks desperate!” Rocket yells, facing the door for a moment so that his voice could be heard loud and clear. “I ain’t helping,” And Rocket looks back down in front of him to his paws where they resumed their skilful work in engineering a new gadget. “Now leave me alone!”

“I need you for this, buddy,” Rocket heard Peter’s voice and, though he didn’t admit it out loud, could hear the desperation in his voice, Rocket imagining his facial expression matching his voice. “I need you to support me, so that I can turn back, so that everything can go back to normal…”

But it’s not as easy as that….you can’t simply go back to the way things were, how they used to be. The only thing you can do is move forward, to accept your fate and live with it for the rest of you-

The cyber-engineered procyon shook its head, shaking such memories and thoughts away. He did this a lot, and though he knew the result was the same, he continued to do so, time and time again, for it was the only thing he could to relieve of some comfort. 

“I am Groot!” It was his friend voice that fully brought him back to reality and Rocket, internally, was thankful for that. “I am Groot!”

“But he’s plan sucks!” Rocket retorted hotly, swivel around on his desk chair, now properly facing the door. “And it makes no sense to boot!”

“Xndar is where it all began!” Peter exclaimed on the other side, anger now entering his voice, which in turned, only fuelled Rocket’s bitterness. “The headaches, the world spinning, everything! If I go back there, back to where Ronan’s ship crash landed, maybe I’ll find some answers…!”

Despite the already mental door separating the two, a heavy silence clouded between them. Rocket stared at the door in an almost hazed look. It was only until the images of Half-World, the place of his creation and the dark memories of his past finished flashing before his eyes that Rocket looked down at his feet through slited eyes, and spoke:  
“You won’t find anything. It’s a waste of time…”

“You don’t know-!”

“I do, Star-Dork!” Rocket snarled, loudly. “I flarkin’ do!”

The silence that followed was a lengthy one, so long in fact that Rocket almost believed Peter had given up on his persuasion and left Rocket in peace. However, Rocket wasn’t so fortunate…

“I thought we made some progress, ya know? I thought we were going somewhere, had each other’s backs…thought you would help me, furball,”

“Groot, you tell that humie that I don’t help no-one,” Rocket replied in an uncharacteristic, flat one. “Unless, it interests me in some way,”

“Same old Rocky, huh?” 

“Don’t call me that!”

“Always thinking of himself, and only himself!”

“And ain’t that exactly what you’re doing, humie?!”Peter, who was sure he was wearing a displeased and pissed-off looking expression, froze upon hearing the declaration that came from the other side of the door.

“W-What?!” Peter asked, wondering what Rocket was on about. “What do you mean-?”

“All ya thinking about is you!” Cause it was the truth, wasn’t it? This humie, this Star-Dork, this guy he had been with for no more than a month, only thought about himself, how anything and everything would, somehow, gain something for him in return. 

Selfish, scheming little….unnatural, humie created monster!

 

“You don’t think about how others feel-!“ And he had said too much, had said too much of what he had liked to disclose. But it was said now and there was nothing he could do to take it back…all he could do was move forward. Flark it!

“How others feel?” Peter asked, almost as if he was talking to himself, trying to solve a riddle that was just too difficult to decipher. “But what does that have anything to do with-?”

“You’re wasting my breathe,” Rocket responded with a snarl. “You’re wasting my time and I’m tired with this and I’m going to sleep,” And Rocket jumped off his swivel chair by his desk and walked toward his bed, falling on top of the mattress, curling into a tight round ball, closing his eyes and wishing the galaxy would leave him be.

“But I don’t get-“

“You’re not me!” Rocket screamed into his knees, not knowing, and not really caring, if Peter could still hear him. “You’re not me at all! I don’t care what you say, what you do, how you….appear….you’re not me! There’s only one me! Only one monster here! And it’s not you!”

Rocket knew that he had certainly said too much, had almost surely revealed information and feelings he would have kept to himself, not knowing if Peter still remained at the door or if he had left already But as he lay alone, on top of his cold mattress, nothing but four wlls keeping him locked inside and isolated from everyone else, he didn’t care anymore; he didn’t care about Peter, of what he did or where he went or how he looked or how desperate he sounded, of how Rocket detected the strain in his voice, of how far they had both come, of how Peter needed him now more than ever.

No, he didn’t care.

He didn’t care at all.

However, the wetness that ran down his cheeks, said otherwise.

\- TO BE CONTINUED -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you asked me “What would the theme song to this fanfic be?”, I would politely point you towards this amazing song on YouTube which represents the story brilliantly…  
> \--  
> “Diver English Cover - Nico Touches the Wall - Naruto Shipudden opening 8 - Jeet Suresh Paul”  
> https://www. Youtube .com/watch?v=DHYgYoi6bvY (Remove Gaps!)  
> \--  
> Anyway, I must say, this chapter turned out a lot more dramatic than what I intended it to be, but hey, I like my character dramatics (If it’s warranted!), and all that lovely character development so yeah, I like it. I also like the pace in which drama is unfolding as information, little by little, is being revealed to you guys! All in due time!
> 
> That whole thing with Gamora and bursting out laughing…yeah, that will be revealed in due time. It’s nothing “big” as such, but it’s quite a small thing that just may have a big impact further down the line. I know Peter and Rocket at all still at each other’s throats, but trust me, it’s all for future chapters development sake.
> 
> I love writing the comedy in this; trying to keep it close to the movie as possibly as I can. Also, writing Drax is so much easier than any other character. No idea why, it just as is – thought I would put that out there :)
> 
> More focus on Rocket/Peter will soon ensued in future chapters! Don’t worry peeps; all that awesome stuff will be here in due time.
> 
> Please leave a review telling me what you must enjoyed, hope to happen, anything! All reviews are most appreciated, as always, and will be used as motivation boosters! Thank you in advance! :)
> 
> See ya next time, guys! :)
> 
> ~mpkio2~


	4. All Part Of The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I’VE UPDATED! :D
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all of the kudos/bookmarks and comments you guys have given this fanfic thus far. It means the world to me that, even within my own absence in updating, many of you still enjoy to read it. :)
> 
> Life in general, other fanfics, a busy work life and a basic lost interest in this fanfic are the main cause for no updates. However, after seeing GotG2, my love for the fandom and in this pairing (RocketxPeter) has, thankfully, been rekindled! Yay! :)
> 
> Anyway, without further ado, here’s the next, overly due, chappie!
> 
> Sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes.
> 
> Read and enjoy! :)

As much as he tried, sleep would not welcome the cybernetic-engineered raccoon. For, what felt like hours - but was actually only mere minutes in reality - Rocket tossed and turned on his bunker, not able to get into an adequate comfortable position. He growled and whined, blaming the fact that it was way too hot in his room, assuming that Drax had, once again, turned up the Milano's AC unit - he had yelled and berated him for weeks to stop turning the flarkin' thing up for weeks! - and now was left in a state where his fur had turned to nothing but a sticky mess.

"I'm gonna kill that maniac," Rocket muttered, almost too worn out and flustered to even put any effort into his words. Slowly and groggily, every movement releasing a strong wave of sweat and unbearable heat-frustration, Rocket got to his hind paws and walked over to the chest of drawers that situated by his and Groot’s bunker door. He climbed up, trying his best not to wake his little-sapling best friend who lay sleeping, snoring slightly, in his little pot, and turned the AC thermostat down to a reasonable level.

"Can't I get any sleep around here?" he muttered, angrily, his tail swishing slightly in an agitated state. "What’s the big idea?" Slowly and quietly, he climbed down, his brain buzzing with activity, as if he had bees in his head that just wouldn't shut the flark up! He just wanted to sleep, to rest and to forget about everything that had occurred in the past few days…

Rocket had been adamant, had ignored and avoided the team with all his might. He didn't want them...no, he didn't need them and whatever he was going through, it was none of their business! Couldn't they get that through their thick heads?! But most of all, Rocket was avoiding one particular person, one who now looked exactly like him - Peter Jason flarkin Quill. The terran idiot had been persistent - too persistent for Rocket’s liking - and had enraged the raccoon to his wits end. Knocking on his door, talking to him, persuading him to just come out and help in his little stupid plan to turn him back into a humie idiot once again – it was enough to send Rocket into a pit of self-indulgence, and had shouted and screamed away the pitiful and despairing voice…

But Rocket didn’t care….

No way in the sake of the whole entire universe, did he give a rat’s ass of what ever happened to him….

To that terran idiot who sounded so….

Desperate….

Lost….

Afraid….

“I need you for this, buddy,” The words repeated over and over in his head, like Peter’s Walkman was stuck in a loop and couldn’t get it to shut up for the life of him. Back on his bunker, the raccoon continued to toss and turn, sleep still not coming to his aid, his paws grabbed hold of the fur on his head, squeezing it tight in frustration. 

“I thought we made some progress, ya know?” Peter’s voice rang in his head, echoing loudly, almost as if it was taunting him, punishing even.

Shut up! 

I thought we were going somewhere, had each other’s backs… On and on, Peter’s voice went, his voice becoming ever so desperate, ever so saddened, ever so miserable and lost and alone, the grief almost too much for Rocket to hear…

I said shut up, you da’sk humie idiot! Suddenly, the overwhelmed raccoon pushed himself off his bunker, paws still holding onto his head fur, tightly, his eyes shut closed, wanting nothing more but the voice to stop its tirade of grief and sadness…

“Just….shut the flark up!” Rocket screamed, not realising he had shouted aloud. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

There was a momentary silence and Rocket thought he had actually won, that he had bested the voice and had shouted into submission. Finally….

But just as he was enjoying his victory, the voice spoke again in a feeble and quiet tone….

Thought you would help me, furball…

“I am…Groot?” Came another voice, a different one, Rocket was relieved to hear, but startled him to as he had forgotten that someone else who had but only minutes been sleeping, was present with him.

Rocket’s eyes snapped open in shock. But not due to hearing his best friend’s worried and concerned high pitched voice; no, what he heard, had remembered hearing that miserable Star-Dork saying, surprisingly, he discovered, shook him to the core…

“I….sorry, buddy,” he muttered. “Go back to sleep. I…nightmare, y’know? I’m fine though, so forget about me….”

“I….am Groot?” the little sapling replied, his head tilting to the side in curiosity, his face showing nothing but a worried expression. 

Upon hearing Groot’s retort, Rocket froze in surprise, realizing that his friend had a very good point. Although knowing it was too late to deny any thing, the raccoon let his arms fall at once, his paws releasing the fur he grabbed within them. Sighing with an effort, he looked at his little buddy and smiled weakly, one that was only shared between them.

“I can’t lie to you, huh? Nuthin’ gets past you, buddy,” he mumbled almost as if he were speaking to himself. “’K, fine…I’m a lil’…torn…”

“I am Groot?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed with a small nod. “About….him,”

“I am Groot?”

Another sigh escaped his muzzle and he looked away from his friend’s face, a scowl shadowing his features which, at the same time, completely and utterly cast away how he truly felt inside. “Because it’s too late, that’s why,” he replied in a gruff voice. “Because I’ll look like a complete idiot, and that’s the last thing I’ll ever do, ‘specially in front of that humie!”

“I am…Groot?”

Rocket couldn’t reply, because, once again, the little sapling once again, despite his age, had left him completely dumbfounded by his innocent and pure wisdom….

Even if his in pain…and needs you?

Thought you would help me, furball…

Rocket felt something wet fall down his cheek, wiped it away with a paw and finally, after hours of trying to sleep, of trying to forget, of banishing any feelings away, he stood up once more. 

“Get to sleep, you little twig,” Finding his blaster on the chest of drawers by Groot’s pot, he grabbed it and exited the room, leaving a goofy-smiling Groot, dancing slightly in his little pot.  
\--

I knew this plan would fail, Gamora thought, disdainfully, her sword out, wielded with both hands in a defensive position, directed at the Nova Corps guards that stood around her and her comrades, Peter and Drax, having them cornered within a circle, ready to attack.

As she had already pointed out to the little idiot that was Peter Jason Quill, his plan was nothing but idiotic, insane and one hundred percent guaranteed to fail, despite what he retorted her in response.

“Don’t worry, Gams, “ the human-transformed-Rocket had said, a smirk on his face, black pupiled eyes looking up at her, tail swishing slightly from side to side. “By this tomorrow I’ll be my normal, rugged, handsome, irresistible, normal, human self,”

Gamora snorted. “By this time tomorrow , you’ll be dead. If not by this idiotic plan of yours, then you can be rest assured…” She pointed her sword down to Quill, then weapon’s end just underneath his furry little chin. “….that it will be by my hands….”

Peter’s ears flattened backwards, his eyes on the sword just hovering around his throat , paws up in a defensive stance. “Hey, woah! OK, message received there, Gams….” he gulped. “I promise if anything goes wrong, you can be the first to say “I told you so,”….

This only infuriated Gamora, who in turn directed her sword to the side of where Peter stood on a kitchen chair, and, with much anger, forced her weapon down on the table. Peter, whose ears where still flattened down against his back, flinched at the sudden action and slowly turned to look at the place where both sword and table made contact, seeing a long, light crack sprawled out on the table beside him.

“Fine,” she huffed, sheathing her sword. “I’ll go along with this plan of yours…but when it fails, which it will….you’ll be the first to know,” 

“I heard a commotion,” Drax emerged from the upper deck, lowering himself slowly down the stairs, both hands branded with a knife, ready to fight. “Is everything OK? Do any of you need my support?”

Gamora sighed, Faced Drax and walked towards him. “We’re fine, Drax,” She passed the ex-murderous lunatic, placed a hand on his shoulder and turned her face back towards a still-stunned Peter. “Me and Peter were just….settling a few things….for when things turn bad….” And with a smirk in Quill’s direction, she climbed the ladder up to the cockpit.

“He-hey!” she heard the wobbly exclamation from Peter . “Th-that table was really expensive! You be-better pay for that!”

And a half hour later, landing on Xandar, finding Ronan’s crashed ship, but instead found nothing but a clear and wreckage free site (Petter assumed the Nova Corps must have cleared it up,) causing “a havoc,” infiltrating the Nova Corps base, locating the Orb, attacking guards, progressing a little further within the base, only to be held back and cornered by the sheer number of guards that surrounded them, Gamora, with both Peter and Drax on either side, found themselves completely and utterly, trapped.  
There was only one silver-lining that Gamora could see in this predicament….

“Hey, Quill,” she whispered to the human-transformed-pyracon by her side, who stood on the floor, guised in his “Super- cool StarLord outfit,” (How he even made them so small to actually fit him, Gamora would never know and, to be quite honest, didn’t want to for that matter,) , his maroon coat cladded him nicely, complete with his signature mask, gun pointed up towards the guards in front of him.

“Yeah…?” he replied in an almost growl.

“I told you so! I told you so! I Told you so!” she exclaimed, head turned and staring at the little furball, not caring who heard. “Your plan failed! It was idiotic!” Huffing somewhat from her sudden outburst, she turned away, relieved and worn out, but only to turn back and shout “And I’m not going to pay for that table!”

“Don’t any of you move!” A Nova guard bellowed, gun charged and ready to shot at any moment.

“Oh my dear, ignorant, Gamora,” Peter, despite himself and the current predicament he and his team where in, shook his head as if he were disappointed with a small child, chuckled slightly and looked up to her, with a smirk on his muzzle and glint in his eyes.   
“Ignorant!?” Gamora cried, fighting the urge to swish her sword in the direction of where Peter stood beside her. “Who are you calling?!”

“I’m warning you!” The Nova Corps guard yelled again, his voice rising in volume and aggression. It seemed as if no-one was taking all too seriously though….

“A little premature to call my plan a “failure,” , isn’t it?” Peter replied, tail swishing slightly behind him, a claw to his chi, head raised to her, that ever-staining-smirk still plastered on his furry face. “A little early to say that you’re right?”

“What are you-?!” Gamora was completely confused. She couldn’t tell whether Quill was just being stupid or mocking her and attempting to get out of being wrong; she decided to go on the latter. “We’re surrounded…” She weaved her sword to the guards before them. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’re still in Rocket form!”

“Ah! But who said this wasn’t all part of my plan?” Peter replied with a cocky grin. “How do you know this wasn’t what I wanted to happen from the very beginning? That my plan, right now in operation, is going absolutely swimmingly!?”

He had to be joking, had to be mocking her, thinking he could trick her and actually make her believe that he had planned all this-! He’s Peter Quill, idiot of the galaxy! There was no way he had thought out this whole entire thing?! And for what? To be trapped? To be captured? No, absolutely, no chance in the depth of the universe could he actually-!

“The only thing that will be going “swimmingly” will be your guts when I gut them on the floor for being an absolute idiot!” Gamora replied, threateningly, having enough of Peter and his da’st lies for one day.

“No need for that, Gamora,” Peter replied in a calm voice. “For the one person I’m after should be here any minute.”

“I’m warning all of you! Shut yer traps! Men!” The Nova Corps guard cried, his voice rising even further in volume, almost sounding comical at this point, neither of the Guardian’s paying him even the slightest of attention. Upon his words, the guards surrounding the trio, charged up their guns and aimed at their targets within the circle.

However, upon hearing a “click” sound, which sounded as if echoed around the corridor they were currently situated in, Peter’s ear’s twitching in response, he turned his gun on the two guards that pointed theirs in his direction. “I’d like to see you try,” he growled at them.

The response he received was not what he was expecting – a retort, an insult, a gun being loaded, sure – but not his….not, laughter? Both guards had exchanged a look and then exploded in a fit of gut-bursting laughter, as if what Peter had threatened was the funniest joke they had ever heard. But he was far from trying to be funny, the opposite in fact – he was one hundred percent serious.

And they thought it was highly amusing?

What the-?

“Hey, what’s so funny?” he inquired, wanting to know what the big deal was. Perhaps he had something on his nose….no, snout, was the right term to use at the moment – or maybe he made a joke without him even realizing it….? Peter was completely lost…  
“Oh….you hear that, Ganst?” One of the guards asked the other, with just enough time before he laughed even harder.

“The talking vermin wants to know what so fu-!” The other guard said, holding onto his stomach, cutting off short before he resumed his gut-wrenching laughing tirade. 

And that was when it hit Peter….

What they were laughing at….

What the big joke was….

He paused, almost shocked at the discovery, his gun slowly faltering, his eyes darting down to a rather shaky outstretch paw…

It’s me, he thought almost dazed. Both of them…no…more are laughing now…at me? Why? What’s wrong with being a-? It’s not that funny…really…

“Guards, silence!” An authoritive voice echoed around the corridor, bouncing off the walls, the guards laughter turning down all too quickly until there was nothing left at all. The sound of trotting feet approaching the Guardians whom were circled in by the Nova Corps was the only thing that Peter could hear, his ears twitching onto of his head, forward. 

A second later a couple of guards moved, leaving a gap in the circle for the newcomer to enter; Nova Prime stood sternly in front of the Guardians, a disdainfully and disapproving scowl covered her features, her blond hair in a bun and her uniform clean, pressed and pristine. Another momentary silence took place, no-one knowing how to fully react to the situation at hand, everyone just staring at each other, numbly.

Finally, a sigh escaped Nova Prime’s mouth and with it came an onslaught of anger “What now Guardians?” she asked, rhetorically, arms folding. “Couldn’t stay a few weeks without getting on the wrong side of the law?”

“Hey, why do you assume we’re on the wrong side of the law?” Peter chimed in, he too folding his arms, hosting his gun away, staring up. “We could be here to tell you all about-?”

“You’re here, aren’t you, Rocket,” Nova Prime cut Peter off before he could finish his sentence. “You and your team? That could only mean that you’ve got yourselves in some sort of trouble. Now, where is your leader? Where is Peter Quill?” Nova Prime asked, looking from one Guardian to the next. “Or, by his other alias, Star-Lord, is it?”

Peter dramatically cleared his throat, brushed himself off and put on the biggest, cheesiest smirk he could muster. “Ahem….at your service,” Peter said, bowing slightly. “Your one and only Star-Lord is here,”

Peter looked up and saw Nova Prime wear an expression she hardly put on; utter shock. It took her a couple of moments to process what was occurring before her, Peter noted, before she regained her composure and addressed Peter cautiously.

“You certainly don’t look like, Peter Quill,” Nova Prime observed, her eyes darting up and down Peter’s body. “You look a lot like the furry companion of the group….Rocket,”

“I know,” Peter replied, his ears flattening slightly, eyes darting downcast for a moment, tail slowly swaying back and forth. “Which is why we came to you,” Peter continued, a little more confidence ebbing into his words, looking up a Nova Prime. “I need you turn me back. I need you to make me normal again…”

\--TO BE CONTINUED--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so originally I had a lot more in that last scene with the Guardian’s infiltrating the Nova Corps and talking to Nova Prime and all, but decided to end it there, feeling as if it was the best place to end.
> 
> I think I pretty much know how this story is gonna pan out and how it’s gonna end, which good cause for the longest time I hadn’t a foggiest of how I was gonna finish this thing XD
> 
> I know most you want the RocketXPeter stuff like right now (Me Too!), but we need to get through this story set-up stuff first and then the rest of the good stuff will follow *wink*  
> Think of it as a necessary evil.
> 
> Any who, except a lot more PeterXRocket (Pocket/Rocquill) in the next few chapters, and I mean A LOT!!!! Fluffiness galore I tells ya!! :D
> 
> Any who, please leave a review if you like and tell me what you think so far. All, as always, is most appreciated.
> 
> I’ll see you in the next update!
> 
> Take care!
> 
> ~mpkiio2~


	5. A Skipped Beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Thank you so much for all the favs/reviews and alerts! You guys are so awesome! :)
> 
> Sorry this update took longer than expected; been bombarded with work. But, thankfully, I found some free time to write some more RocketxPeter awesomeness!
> 
> Sorry for bad spelling and grammar.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

**Ain’t Nothing In The Universe Like Me  
Written by mpkio2**

**Chapter 5  
A Skipped Beat**

“You…want the Nova Corps…to help change you back into your original…form?” Nova Prime asked, confused, confirming, unsure of what she was even asking, her brain still trying to process the situation that was standing in front of her in the form of the fury companion of the Guardians Of The Galaxy, Rocket, but was actually the leader of the rag-tag team of misfits, Peter Quill, aka Star-Lord. As if to confirm her question and the settle her frazzled and unsettling thoughts, the furry form in front of her nodded its head. “And…how pre tel, did you expect us to…help you? Why would you even think we would in the first place, after infiltrating the Nova base-“

“Ah!” Peter interjected, a claw extended in the air. “Plan A failed, see? So we had to settle for Plan B…”

“…Causing havoc and injuring my guards…..” Nova Prime continued, her voice raising in volume and irritation., taking a step forward.

“…Hey!” Peter interrupted once more, paws crossing over in front of his chest, his body moving slightly away from Nova Prime, as if hurt but such an accusation. “We didn’t “injure,” any ‘em…”

“I disagree,” Drax intersected. “I may have broken a man’s arm,” And as if to confirm the injury, Drax pointed over to his right, outside the circle of guards and over to a guard, laying on the floor, holding on to his arm which was disjointed in an disturbing position, a couple of his friends surrounded him trying to help. “It was an accident…”

“Accident my foot, you big maroon!” The guard in question answered, releasing a painful screaming in the process.

“Don’t you mean “Accident my…arm” ?” Peter asked, his paws in the air as if waiting for an erupted and jubilant applause from the circle of guards, an imaginary audience that only he could see. But alas, no applause came his way. “Oh come on people! That was an optune time for a joke and none of you got it?”

“I am sorry, Quill,” Drax answered, turning to face his Captain with a plain expression. “I did not comprehend your lame excuse for a joke,”

“This is not the time, you two!” Gamara said, stretching her hands to the sides between both Drax and Peter. “We’re in a serious situation here….!”

“And I’m just trying to lighten the mood, making it less serious!” Peter replied, his arms outstretched, still waiting for an applause that would not come. “Oh come on guys! You need to show your entertainer a little support,”

“Enough!” Nova Prime had reached her limit, had heard quite enough gibberish; Peter Quill and his team, non-surprisingly, had surpassed her tolerance of how much she could bear to be around them. “You have wasted my time, caused mayhem among my base and yet you have the tenacity to ask for my help?”

“Err…yeah,” Peter replied, with a bold and brave smirk plastered on his muzzle.

“Why? Why would I help you now when you have done…” Nova Prime extended her arms, around at the scene, the carnage that bear waste before them. “….this?!”

“Because we’re the guardians of the frickin’ galaxy. You need us and I can’t do my job, not when I’m…well…” Peter gestured down to his current form.

“But why the Nova Corps, Peter Quill?” Nova Prime asked, taking, yet, another step forward, her arms folded, a stern and unimpressed expression on her pursed lips. “Why do you think you’ll find your solution here?”

“Ronan’s ship,” Peter asked with a shrug. “That’s when this all started,” Another gesture to his fury body and Peter continued. “After the crash landing, after we saved the whole galaxy, after I thought I found it all…I got these….headaches and I thought I could just ignore it and pretend like they weren’t even there, like it wasn’t happening at all. But that did nuthin’, and yeah it was kinda stupid of me to do that, trust me I know; Gamora has already told me like a hundred times…”

“And I’ll keep telling you until it gets into that thick head of yours, Quill,” Gamora said with a striking glare.

“Love ya too, Gams,” Peter replied with a wink, to which Gamora grimaced. “Anyway,” Peter carried on, turning back to Prime. “Because of my ignorance, this is what happened. I’ve paid a hefty fine, and I know you guys are the only ones who can save me now,”

A deafening silence echoed along the long corridor, bouncing off the walls and vibrating back. Perhaps he had fallen asleep, or somehow accidentally frozen time in place. Whatever the reason, Peter looked up to Prime and saw the answer, a battle taking place upon her face, weaving in out between understanding sympathy and lingering rage.

“And what, pray tell, makes you think that the Nova Corps _can_ help you?” Nova Prime enquired in a firm tone, finally breaking the silence that almost deafened the people within the corridor.

“Well….you’re the freakin’ Nova Corps, that’s why!” Peter replied in an exasperated voice, his arms, momentarily, flailing up in the air in exaggeration. “You’ve got all that fancy tech and what-not! You can easily fix me up with a pill that can change me back, right?”

Silence greeted Peter in answer.

Nova Prime looked down at him, her mouth slightly agape.

“Right?” The human-turned-raccoon looked around at the guards that surrounded he and his team, desperate for a confirmation, an answer that would surely ease and soothe his tightening stomach. “C-come on!”

“Quill,” What he next heard, shook him to his very core; Gamora’s voice came to him, calming and soothingly. He looked over to her and saw that she had sheathed her weapon, Drax too by his side, his two knifes down in a relaxed state. “Let’s go home already…”

_No, that’s not right_ , Peter thought, feeling his heart beat slightly abnormally behind his ribcage, processing what he saw before him, what he heard from Gamora’s voice. _Leave? Now?_ No, not when the answer to this small little hiccup was right here before him. Flark it all, his plan!! They should be following his plan, and now here they were, staring at him with…what?....worry?

Slowly, with everything finally coming together, Peter felt a small smile creep up on his lip, which grew and transformed into an uncontrollable laugh, which echoed and bounced off the walls. “Wha----hahaha….are you talkin’ about?”

“Captain Quill-“ Drax started slowly, taking a hand placing it on Peter’s right shoulder. Feeling the contact of skin upon his fur, Peter could feel himself bristle with discomfort, shrugged his shoulder in response, looked up and slightly snarled up to the ex-murderer.

“No, Drax,” Peter growled, turning his attention on Nova Prime once more. “We ain’t going nowhere, not until she turns me back,”

“I can’t gauarntte that,” Nova Prime sated, her arm up, holding back her guards who were ready at any moment to attack. “Even if I did agree to help you, theres a chance that-“

“Fine!” Peter exclaimed, fur still on end, throwing down his weapon onto the marble tileing beneath him, a “CLANG” sound echoing around him. “I get it, alright? So, now can you fix….” A gesture to his own raccoon body. “…this?!”

But before Nova Prime could give her confirmation, someone had already started shouting and raving, somewhere down the corridor…

“Get your hands off me you damn-humie, before I make sure you never use them again!”

_Rocket?_

Momentarily, not believing any of his five senses, Peter turned in the direction of where the voice had come from. And, sure enough, within a few moments, a couple of guards moved a little, allowing for a new guard, who had Rocket by the scruff within a quenched fist and threw the enginetically-engineered-raccoon within the circle and landed by Peter’s hind-paws.

“Rocket!” Peter exclaimed. “You came!”

“Shut up, Star-dork!” Slowly, standing to brush himself off, tailing swishing in agitation, ignoring Peter and the other Guardian’s entirely, Rocket turned to glare at the guards. “Throw me down like garbage, will ya?!”

Rocket, bearded with no weapon, was readying for himself to attack, to pounce and make the guards pay for treating him like nothing but a worthless crea-

But before he could get the chance to make his first move, the guards held their weapons ready, their guns humming in anticipation and excitement. The raccoon, having seen said weapons, hesitated, looked around, and retracted his intention to rebuttal. Instead, he growled, lowly, and glared at them all.

“You’re just lucky you have all your buddies around here,” Rocket addressed the nearest guard to him, a retracted claw pointing right at him.

“Speakin’ of buddies,” Peter began, in a sing-song voice. “Thanks for comin’, _buddy_ ,” Unknowingly to Rocket, Peter had stealthily snuck up on the unsuspecting raccoon and had embraced him within a tight, strong hug. “Glad you finally made the right choice,”

“Let---go---Quill!” Rocket heaved out, finding it difficult to breathe within Peter’s revers-bear hug. Rocket, infuriated by Quill’s over-excitement, used his claws to dig at the transformed-humie as reply and show of his discomfort. Finally getting the message, Peter let Rocket go.

“Sure,” Peter replied, lightly, a goofy grin still plastered on his muzzle. “Whatever you say, _buddy_ ,” After a moment of recovering his breathe, Rocket turned and lay waste to Quill’s stupidity.

“You flarkin’ idiotic!” Rocket exclaimed, tail swishing from side to side. “You know why I didn’t join you on this mission? Know why I tried to stop ya?!”

Upon hearing the aggression in Rocket’s voice, Peter’s smile slowly died from his face. “You never tried to stop me!”

“I did so!”

“When? Whendya’ tell me, huh?”

A slight pause. No-one moved. Nothing was said.

And then…

A sigh escaped Rocket’s muzzle, one in which seemed to wheeze out slowly, that caused the raccoon to slump his shoulders, a tried expression covered his face.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Rocket said in calmer voice, one which still tilted on the verge of anger. “Said you weren’t gonna find anything here, didn’t I? And this….” Rocket gestured to Nova Prime and her guards. “Is your flarkin’ answer!”

Peter, despite how much Rocket had riled up him, couldn’t deny that he was right. When Peter had tried so much into coaxing Rocket out of his room, encouraging him to join him on this very mission, the raccoon had told him, warned him, time and time again…

_“You won’t find anything. It’s a waste of time…”_

“So why are here you now, then?” Peter asked, taking a step forward. “Huh? If you knew my plan was idiotic, knew it would fail like it has, why in all of the galaxy, would you come?”

Slowly, and Peter was sure, he could see Rocket’s features falter somewhat; his fur had laid down, no longer on end, ears were dropping, tail slowed and eyes laid downcast.

“If I weren’t gonna come, who the flark’ was gonna save all your sorry, asses, huh?”

Processing the sincerity, and depth of the words which came out of Rocket’s muzzle, Peter stood dazed and touched by the genuine care he had heard.

“Rocket…”

“I’m a Guardian,” Rocket replied, looking anywhere by at his team mates. “This is what we do…”

“Structure plans that ultimately fail,” Drax stated, head slowly nodding as if in understanding. “Yes, that is what we do,”

“No, dumb-nuts!” Rocket shouted back, turning to face Drax, his usual tone of voice and stance, returned. “We save people!”

“I assure you, furry friend,” Drax replied calmly, not addressing Rocket’s angered tone of voice. “There is no one here by that name…”

“I’m talking to you, dummy!”

“My name is not “dummy,”; it is Drax The Destoryer,”

“That’s it!” The enraged cyber-engineered-raccoon lunged towards Drax, claws retracted and ready to pile on a furry of hurt upon the big doofus. But before Rocket could indulge himself in relief, a hand grabbed him by the scruff, stopping him dead in mid-air…

“We don’t have time for this, Rocket!” Gamora exclaimed in the not-to-pleased raccoon’s face, his tail twitching slightly from side to side. “Can’t you see we’re in a bit of a situation here,”

“Which is why, Gams, I’ve come to help you jerks” Rocket replied in a controlled, leveled voice, mostly due to the fact that Gamora her blade unsheathed in her opposite hand, the raccoon unaware of how she intended to use it and whether it will be used upon himself. “Some gratitude would be appreciated!”

“Hey!” Peter piped up. “I’m happy your-!”

“Shut up, Quill!”

“Enough of this!” At the sound of Nova Prime’s voice, once again, ringing out through the corridor walls, eyeone present fell silent at once, accompanied by weapons being sheathed and a stunned Gamorra slowly placing Rocket back on the floor. When Prime was satisfied that everyone was giving her their full and undivided attention, she cleared her throat and took a step forward.

“Guardians, I am most disappointed in you, especially when we have given you such high regarded privileges and responsibility to take care of what we all hold dear…”

“Jeez, feels like we’re being scolded by a principal or summethin’…” Rocket muttered under his breathe, his eyes down to the ground, a paw rubbing the back of his head. However, at least two people had heard his mutterings; one being Peter, who standing next to him, giggled quietly, coughing his muzzle with his free paw, giving Rocket a nudge with his arm. And the other, Nova Prime, to which Rocket was sure he could feel her gaze blaring down right through skull.

“As I was saying…” Nova Prime continued, “I am displeased. But,…”

“But?” Rocket heard Peter muttered in a hopeful, turning his head to his right, seeing Quill staring up at Nova Prime, his eyes almost glistening with hope. Seeing the sight before him, Rocket had to force down a snigger; boy, if only the once-humie could now see how pathetic he looks!

A sigh escaped through Nova Prime’s pursed lips.

“I am willing to consider your request, Captain Quill,”

“Yes!” Peter exclaimed, jovially, the transformed-human, punching his clenched paw in the air, looking as his home team had just one the Superbowl. “You’re so awesome, Prime!”

And there he is now, standing with an outstretched arm, giving Nova Prime a thumbs up, one eye closed and smiling all the while like a stupid, doting fool. If only Rocket could capture this moment forever; flark, he would have such blackmailing power on Quill; could possibly get away with anything….

“That is,” Nova Prime started again. “If you agree to our terms, knowing full well that there is no guarantee to fix you…”

_Fix him?_

“I don’t care, Prime!” Peter replied with that big goofy smile still plastered on his muzzle. “I’ll take anything, no matter how little the chance. I just…want to go back….”

_Go back?_

_Already?_

_Huh, I thought Star-dork would last a lot longer than this…_

_Guess my expectations were too high for him._

Rocket scoughs.

_Of course he wants to go back….wants to be fixed…_

_I wanted that too once…_

“Well then, if you are in full agreement, I think it would be wise if we all went inside and discussed this further. My men will also need to start rebuilding most of the destruction you have caused to our facility…” Upon the group of guards, a few audible groans could be heard.

“Err…yeah, sorry about that…” Peter replied almost sheepishly, a paw rubbing the back of his head.

_Flark it! Look at him now, rubbing his head lookin’ all shy and…vulnerable…and…wait, why did my heart just-?_

It felt as if Rocket’s heart had momentarily….stopped. Sweating and almost shaking, Rocket gripped his heart, willing it to work at its normal function. His heart seemed to heed to his word, and began to bump at a normal rate…well, as far the raccoon could tell.

_Wha….what was that?_

It felt…strange, weird…something Rocket had never…experienced.

So foreign.

Unknown.

_And yet…_

Rocket was shaking, feeling his cheeks heat up with heat, his paws all clammy and sweaty and-

“Hello, Rocky!” A paw waving in front of him brought Rocket out of his mini panic attack and back to reality, finding Peter in the form of a smiling, furry raccoon standing in front of him. “Are you OK, dude?”

“Wha-? Oh yeh, sure Star-Dork,” Rocket replied with an air of indifference, as if he wasn’t just staring out to space, he, like Quill, looking like a complete idiot. “Are we gonna go in a talk this out or what?”

“Err…everyone’s already gone, Rocket,” And sure enough, as Rocket’s eyes darted around, he realized that he and Quill were the only two standing within the narrow corridor. “You’ve just been standing here all quiet like and I was…”

“Save it, Quill,” Rocket interjected, a paw reaching up in a “Stop” gesture. “Let’s just go…”

“Oh,” Peter replied in a mumble as Rocket walked passed him, his eyes half closed and downcast. “Ok, then,”

Bump!

There it was again….a missed beat.

And Rocket could feel his fur absorbing the sweat that released through his body. A paw grabbed on to his heart as he felt something grab his free one.

Something…someone, was holding his free paw…

And that someone made it skip again.

Eyes glistening with hope, a doofus smile plastered on his muzzle…

A raccoon, just like him…

Peter flarkin’ Quill…

**-TO BE CONTINUED-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Finally, it’s done! Yay!
> 
> This was such an enjoyable chapter to write (Even though I got stuck a couple of times).
> 
> This chapter, for me anyway, is what I like to call a “transitional” chapter; in other words, its purpose is supposed to lay the foundations of getting into the real juicy parts of the story where we will see more character development and fluffy Pocket!
> 
> The hints of how Rocket is feelin’ is already there, slowly starting to build, and with this new feeling comes confusion, anger, conflict, the works really, so prepare for it all to come!  
> Oh, and I think Peter is adorable as a raccoon! 
> 
> Anyway, please leave a review telling me what you thought of this chapter. It will mean the world to me! Thank you! :)
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it, Chapter 1 all done!
> 
> Sorry it was a little angsty, but I assure you that it is all required for future chapters and further character development. Also, don’t be fooled by the “depressing” stuff – we will also have some light hearted, funny and fluffy moments too (Now that Peter is a raccoon, it will be very fluffy indeed XD).
> 
> If you liked this fanfic so far, I recommend you go rad another RocketxRaccoon!Peter fanfic here on ArchiveOfOurOwn.Org entitled “All The Good Love” by “grocketinmypocket”. Check her other Pocket stories out too! She’s awesome!
> 
> So, what will happen next? How will everyone react and what can they do? God, I just wanna see Peter as a raccoon lol.
> 
> Please leave a review telling me what you think of the story so far and what you want to see happen next. Reviews will keep me encouraged and motivated to write more.
> 
> See ya next update! :)  
> ~mpkio2~


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